


Fated Encounters

by afteriwake



Series: The Best Laid Plans [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Abrupt Sherlock Holmes, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Star Trek Is Fictional, Cats, Comforting Mary Morstan, Confused Leonard "Bones" McCoy, Confused Molly Hooper, Creating False Identities, Episode AU: s04e01 The Six Thatchers, F/M, Fictional Leonard "Bones" McCoy, First Meetings, Grateful Molly Hooper, Helpful Molly Hooper, London Underground, Molly to the rescue, POV Leonard "Bones" McCoy, Post-Star Trek Beyond, Pregnant Mary Morstan, Toby Escapes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-08-28 11:56:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16722897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: Somehow, McCoy finds himself on a universe where he's considered a fictional character and a cat guides him to exactly the right person he needs to meet in order to survive here. But there's going to be more to this fateful encounter than he could ever realize...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dreamin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamin/gifts), [sideofrawr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sideofrawr/gifts).



> So this is officially the beginning of the series! It was inspired by a prompt from **Dreamin** that went " _There was a cat taking the metro. McMolly? Bones finds Toby, his tag leads him to her._ "

He had no idea where he was, even _when_ he was. He had his medical kit on him, his personal go bag that kept the few things he held dear that he always had stashed in his office...the Enterprise had been under attack and they were jettisoning out in the Kelvin pods and his got hit and…

He was somewhere else. And from the looks of it, some _when_ , too. If the fashion was any indication, this was all worn during Jim’s favorite era of the past. Maybe...2000s? Maybe a little later? But there were subtle differences, too. 

Maybe he wasn’t just somewhere else and somewhen else. He was starting to get the distinct feeling he wasn’t even in the same universe anymore. 

But even though the pod had been jettisoned into a rather undisturbed wooded area, he wanted to get the hell out of dodge as quickly as possible, get the lay of the land, figure out a place...to...go?

What the hell was rubbing at his ankle?

“Hey, kitty,” he said, bending down to pick up the cat, but she moved out of reach. Looked like it had a tag of some sort. If a person cared enough for a cat, maybe they’d help a concussed stranger with amnesia? Close as a story he could think of. He made another grab for the cat but it pranced out of his way and eventually he decided hell with it, he’d give chase.

The cat only seemed to run away when he put some speed into trying to chase it; otherwise, it walked at a brisk, almost regal pace, as if it had places to go and people to see. And since he didn’t but this cat had some certain destination in mind, off the went. It wasn’t until they got to a flight of stairs built into the sidewalk and he saw a sign Carol had mentioned as belonging in the past in London that he knew at least one piece of where he was.

The cat finally let him pick it up and he made his way down to the London Underground area, only to be stopped by needing a ticket of some sort. Doing something he’d never dream of doing normally, he went over the turnstile and continued on his way. He could hear someone shout but a train was pulling up and he was on the train with the cat in his arms before the person could catch him.

“Now, mister...or misses, where are we headed?” he murmured. He looked and saw the collar had a tag, and the tag said a number and Montague Street. He looked up and around on the train and realized this train would take him right there, he just needed to wait for a few stops. And so he did with the cat in arms, getting off and carrying it up the steps.

“Toby!” he heard a woman shout and come running towards him. “I’ve been walking around the whole neighbourhood for _hours_.” McCoy looked at the tag again and saw that yes, this was Toby.

“He got on the train and went a bit away from home,” McCoy said as the woman got closer. “Thought I’d bring him back to you.”

“Why thank you,” she said, giving him a dazzling smile. “Could I gift you with a cuppa for ensuring this naughty kitty got home safe?”

He blinked, and then he smiled widely. “I’d like that a lot, darlin. Thanks. I’m a bit...lost.”

“Yes, you definitely look like you were on your way to some comic book convention or something,” she said, taking Toby from him. “I’m Molly. And you are…?”

“Leonard,” he said, holding out a hand. She shifted the cat and shook his. “Leonard McCoy.”

She gave him an odd look but nodded. “I think we have a lot to talk about, Leonard. But for your safety, you may just want to call yourself something else.”

“What?”

“You look enough like Karl Urban and your name is Leonard McCoy? Really? If you were a little shorter I’d think this was some elaborate prank to tease me that Sherlock might have cooked up. He knows I love the new Star Trek movies. I mean, I practically drool over his doppelganger in ‘Into Darkness.’ Benedict Cumberbatch is a dish. But, I mean, McCoy was always my favorite, mostly because...” She trailed off, frowning. “This is no joke?”

“No joke. I am actually Leonard McCoy, from Macon Georgia, and I’m a Doctor in Starfleet,” he said with a frown. “I’m fictional here?”

“Oh dear,” she said. “Yes, you definitely need to come with me. I think I might be your only hope at getting some semblance of a life here.” She nodded down the street. “Come on, and I’ll explain along the way.”

He gave her a curious look, but as she seemed to be taking this twist better than he was, he trusted her enough to go with her...for now.


	2. Chapter 2

Apparently, his pod had been discovered already, as there was a man who looked damn near like the bastard Khan gleefully pacing in Molly’s flat. “Alien craft,” he said without realizing Molly had company.

“Yes, I know,” she said. “Meet the occupant. Strictly human, though, not alien.”

It was only then that the man looked up and his eyes widened for just a moment before narrowing, as if to study him. Soon the man started circling around him, looking him up and down. “That movie you made me watch, with that actor lookalike. Is this...”

“Leonard McCoy? So he says.” She gestured to her sofa and surprisingly both of them sat down while the man stood up. “Sherlock, this is Leonard. Leonard, this is Sherlock Holmes.”

“Spock’s human relative?” he said, surprised. Not that Spock talked about his human side much, but there was a famous detective in the past who had a saying he liked.

“As far as I know, I’m not that particular one,” Sherlock said. “Considering the fact you’re wholly fictional here, it stands that my name was used to indicate that I have offspring in the future since I’m well-known in more than just the UK. Whether that’s the truth in your own universe...” Sherlock trailed off.

“You know, you’re taking this remarkably well,” Molly said, looking up at Sherlock. 

“Space travel is possible, it’s happened. Time travel is theoretical. Multiple universes, also theoretical. If there’s truth that for every decision made a multitude of universe spring forth...well, there could always be one where Leonard is real and we’re fictional. Hypothetically.”

“Glad you’re taking this well because I need a drink,” Leonard admitted.

“Oh! I should have offered. I imagine this is a shock,” Molly said. “Um...whiskey will do?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Leonard said, leaning into the seat. “So let me get this straight. In this universe, I’m fictional. In my universe, it could be a totally different version of you that’s related to Spock. But there’s two Sherlock Holmes’s? Maybe more?”

“Theoretically, yes.” Sherlock began to pace. “My brother shall want to study you, as he’s already started with your craft.”

“Hell no,” Leonard said.

“Get his help without letting this man become a test subject,” Molly said as she came into the sitting room with a glass half-full of whiskey. She handed the glass to Leonard. “I mean...without the craft there’s no way he can go back. He’s here and he ended up running into us. It’s fate. We have to help.”

“There is no such thing as fate,” Sherlock and Leonard chorused before staring at each other.

“Besides, I have no idea how I got here,” Leonard said. “Not like I could get back if I wanted to. Kelvin pods don’t work that way.”

“What are those?” Molly asked.

“Something instituted on new ships after an incident with his lookalike,” Leonard said, jerking a thumb at Sherlock.

“The encounter with the Vengeance? That was the movie we saw,” Molly said.

“Guess you know a lot more about me than I do you,” he said sourly, having some of the whiskey.

“We’ll speak to Mary,” Sherlock said. “She’s good at crafting identities and has the necessary skills to make it stick. I think your cat managed to get Mister--”

“ _Doctor_ ,” Leonard countered.

“ _Doctor_ McCoy here without much notice, and as I believe there is a convention in town at the moment he should blend in somewhat. We’ll keep his first name, alter his appearance slightly, I can provide clothing...”

“So I have to stay?” Leonard asked.

“With me, preferably. I can help with what you need,” Sherlock said, waving his hand as he headed to put on a scarf and coat. “Keep him here until I’m sure Mycroft has no idea there was a survivor who is still alive. There are some things that can be kept from my brother but we need to recruit Mary. Clothe him and I’ll be back.” With that, Sherlock made his way to the door and let himself out.

Molly leaned back into the seat she had taken after bringing the whiskey out and gave Leonard a half-hearted smile. “Welcome to your new home,” she replied.

He grunted slightly and finished off the whiskey. It seemed he’d fallen in with decent people, or at least he hoped, but this was going to take some _serious_ adjusting.


	3. Chapter 3

He realized he wasn’t leaving the best impression on Molly, but he was not in the mood to care. If they thought they could send him back in the Kelvin pod...good luck with that. He was in the era where they’d just sent people to the _moon_ and no further and hey, adding in the fact he was stuck in the past? He was not in the greatest of moods. As far as he was concerned, this was the Stone Ages of modern eras.

Finally, the door opened up again and Sherlock swept in with a woman behind him. “McCoy, Mary Watson. What last name do you want?” he asked.

Leonard blinked but Mary punched Sherlock’s shoulder and then turned to him as Sherlock winced. “He’s such a prat. But yes, I’m going to use some of my old contacts to craft an identity for you. It’s best if you keep it as close to what you’re used to as possible, so I just need to know...well, everything about you I can’t scrounge off a Wiki page.”

He took a deep breath. “You seem to be taking this well,” he said.

“And so do you, but I see you had whiskey. Doesn’t help much, does it?”

“Not really,” he said, giving her a small grin. “I suppose...” He realized he was stuck. “I have no idea.”

“MacMillan?” Molly piped up. “Similar enough you might not get them confused often, and you can always say McCoy and Bones are nicknames you got when the first movie came out.”

“Yeah, that’ll do,” Leonard said with a nod. At least if someone called him McCoy or Bones he wouldn’t have to ignore it or react any differently than he would normally. Mary went through other questions, jotting the answers down in the handheld contraption she was using, and eventually, she lapsed into silence. It was then he noticed that Sherlock and Molly were talking off to the side, their voices hushed. She seemed almost a little agitated and he felt bad that he had left such a bad impression, but before he could really think on it Mary turned to Sherlock and he paid attention.

“The actual papers will take some time, but officially he’s got a background. I modified his actual background to fit into something in this era and if we tell John, he can get him a position at the clinic while Leonard learns our stone age era technology.”

“I suppose we can tell him,” Sherlock said.

“Shouldn’t Leonard get a say?” Molly asked.

“Who is John?” Leonard asked.

“My husband. He’s a doctor at a local clinic, and I’m a nurse there when I’m not obscenely pregnant. I’m on early maternity leave at the moment, but he can secure the position and until you feel comfortable I suppose you can come to my home and I can give you medical texts and whatnot to study.”

“I know how to do this era’s medicine, I just am...rusty.”

“You need to learn about medications and such,” Molly said. “Unless you don’t want to be a doctor?”

He wanted to argue, but she had a point. Killing a patient accidentally would be unfortunate and bring unwanted attention to the fact he wasn’t used to this era. “Yeah.”

“Barts. We can put him in some of the rotations of student doctors, just as an observer,” Sherlock said.

“That is true,” Molly said. “And I can go over things as well.”

“You’re a doctor?” Leonard asked.

“Forensic pathologist at the aforementioned Barts,” she said. “I’m rather knowledgeable, especially about medicinal interactions.”

“Then it’s settled,” Sherlock said. “Next off, you need clothing. I’m sure I can take care of what Molly hasn’t. But then there’s the matter of residence.”

Mary glanced to her side in Molly’s direction and then flashed a smile to him. “You can stay with my husband and I. We’ll start work on getting you up to snuff to practice medicine in ye olde past.” She got up and then looked at Sherlock. “You just have to make sure by the time I have this baby actual housing is settled.”

“Done,” Sherlock said. He looked at a handheld contraption similar to the one Mary had used and then stuffed it into his coat pocket. “My brother needs me. I’ll check in later.”

“Is he always like this?” Leonard asked as Sherlock went back to the door and let himself out.

“You get used to it,” Mary said. “Come on. We’ll give Molly a break and get you settled at my home.”

He stood then and then looked over at Molly. “Thanks. Sorry if...”

Molly waved her hand. “It’s alright. I’m rather used to some of this, surprisingly.” She gave him a small smile. “Once you get a mobile we can exchange numbers and set up times to study things from this woebegone era.”

He nodded, giving her a slight smile and then followed Mary. His head was spinning from the last few interactions with Sherlock and the whiskey probably hadn’t helped, but at least for now, he was safe.


End file.
